sweet like cinnamon
by McMuffin
Summary: A fluffy snapshot of Haymitch and Effie's life together. Post-Mockingjay. Rating for smut. / "I love you," Effie murmurs, her eyes looking more alive than he's seen in years. "I love you too," he replies, certain that his own eyes reflect her happiness.


What started out as a fic for the prompt "you're wonderful, in a loathsome sort of way" (for kolms' ficathon at LJ) quickly turned into this - a cute, porny snapshot of Haymitch and Effie's life together. Post-Mockingjay, of course. Beta'd by supershipper. :)

* * *

He takes a sip from his scotch, revelling in the liquid from his one drink of the day sliding down his throat. Effie's rule. He doesn't always know why he follows it, he has a million chances to break it every day, but he supposes it's only fair since she's ditched the capitol couture for him.

She's currently visiting Peeta, wanting to confirm the cake for their engagement party tonight. He's marrying her, doesn't really know why, only that he loves her and that this will make her happy. And despite her fixation with the perfect cake, he can't live without her.

It's been a few years since the rebellion and District 12 has been repaired so well you almost wouldn't know there was ever a war. But no one's ever going to forget. Even if the buildings look fine, no one will forget the past. And Haymitch no longer wants to. He used to waste away in drink, trying to no avail to forget. But now with Effie around, by not being a drunk, he almost wants to remember. He wants to be proud of everything he's overcome; he wants the nation to be proud of how it's grown.

He studies his glass, thinking of how two years ago, twenty years ago, he would have needed another ten glasses of the stuff to feel remotely okay. Now he just needs one. He doesn't even really 'need' it, just enjoys the taste. He thinks about how a decade ago he'd probably be throwing up by this time of day, about how disgusting his house was, how disgusting he was. Through a tough process his fiancée has changed all of that and he loves her for it.

~.~

"Ha-aymitch!" Effie calls in her singsong voice, stepping over the hearth. Her Capitol accent is fading slightly and he loves it. The hybrid district 12-Capitol pronunciation makes certain words sound adorable, and he always wants to kiss her when she says his name.

"In the lounge," he replies, listening to the sound of her heels clicking on the floor. She appears a moment later, wearing a pastel green sundress with a pair of nude pumps. Her hair is natural, fixed back with a matching green headband, and her face is bare save for a coating of soft pink lipgloss. He likes her best like this - real but with enough fashion in there to still make her Effie. She's toned back on her wacky outfits for both the district and herself. While she sometimes misses the insane costumes, she doesn't miss hiding behind a colourful façade.

"Our cake is perfect," she informs Haymitch with a smile, kissing him softly and sitting down on his left.

"Oh, great," he mutters sarcastically, earning himself a glare from Effie before she rests her head on his shoulder. Her hands in her lap, pink diamond engagement ring catching the light, Haymitch's hand reaching to hold hers, she couldn't be happier. He finishes his drink and places it on the coffee table next to the couch.

"Good scotch?"

"Excellent scotch," he replies, running his thumb over her knuckles with a soft smile.

"That's - " Her sentence is cut off with a yawn and he chuckles as she covers her mouth, a blush creeping up her cheeks at the unladylike behaviour.

"Is my princess tired?" he teases and she smacks him in the chest. "Not enough sleep last night, hey?" continues Haymitch, unperturbed. "Too much wild sex?"

"I am not - I do - it - I..." she trails off with a huff. He simply laughs, enjoying teasing her, and turns to kiss her softly. A smile spreads on her face as his lips touch hers and she finds she can't even pretend to be annoyed with him anymore.

"You can sleep now if you want, Eff. Hell, you can sleep all afternoon," Haymitch suggests, reaching down to remove her heels. She's nodding at his suggestion when his hand slides up her leg to rest on her thigh and she bites her lip, seeing his smirk. "Or... We could do this and then sleep."

"Do what?" she asks as innocently as she can with his hand up her dress, leaning back into the couch.

"I think you know," he growls, his fingertips dancing along her skin, creeping closer and closer to her panties.

Effie squirms as his fingers brush over her silk underwear, heat pooling between her legs. Haymitch grins, holding her gaze as his hand cups her mound, fingers stroking her through the soft material. Her blush is permanently fixed and she struggles to maintain eye contact when she thinks about what he's doing. His hand slides into her panties, index and middle fingers circling her clit, and he laughs softly when her eyes drop.

"Look at me, gorgeous," he whispers. Her teeth catch her lip and she meets his gaze when his fingers slip inside her wet core.

"Oh!" gasps Effie softly as three of Haymitch's fingers curl inside her. He grins and presses his lips to hers, mumbling about how sexy she is, his other hand coming up to palm her breasts.

He's become much more affectionate with her since she's sobered him up, and while it's only ever in private, he enjoys playing the loving, soft fiancé. And Effie enjoys it even more. She's always loved their banter, but told him when she first started helping him cut back on his drinking that she hated dating a hard man. He'd snarled that he hated dating a freak and she'd stayed with Katniss and Peeta that night. They still fight, but neither take harsh stabs at the other after what they've both been through.

Effie knows him better than anyone, knows how much the games changed him; broke him. Likewise, he knows how she hid behind superficiality; hid away her treasonous thoughts so her country wouldn't kill her, didn't speak when they tried to. And they both know how much they've fixed each other.

"Haymitch!" Effie gasps into his shoulder. He's peppering kisses along her neck while his thumb plays with her clit and his fingers pump inside her pussy. She's making these soft whimpers, her exposed chest heaving into his hand. He's pulled her dress down her arms, baring her breasts to his touch. He drags his lips down to her collarbone, nipping at the skin softly, careful not to leave any marks. She'll kill him if anyone ever saw her with a love-bite on her skin, especially at their engagement party. He shifts his position, erection straining against his pants, to dip his head and kiss her breasts, his fingers still thrusting inside her.

Effie lets out a moan and drags her fingers through his hair, rakes them along his stubble as he flicks his tongue across a nipple. A few more jerks of his fingers, kisses to her breasts, circles of her clit and she's coming. His name spills from her lips in a long moan, her body shudders in pleasure, liquid rolls down his hand. He smiles, watching her close her eyes and give into the bliss.

"Mmm..." Effie sighs, eventually opening her eyes and meeting his loving gaze. She smiles softly at him, breath hitching in her throat when he brings his hand to his lips, licking his fingers clean.

"Mmm indeed," smirks Haymitch. She giggles, sitting up and pushing him backwards so he's lying down along the couch. He watches her with raised brows as she crawls over him, straddling his hips and grinding down onto his dick. She undoes his shirt, meticulously slowly and he almost growls at her to hurry up. Next comes his belt buckle, belt, fly, pants and finally his boxers - she slaps his hand away any time he tries to make her go faster, and she deliberately brushes his cock every chance she gets.

His dick is throbbing intensely by the time Effie's undressed him, and he wants to just grab her and slam up inside her for all the time she's taken, but she's too precious for that. Instead he watches as she pushes her dress down over her hips and shimmies out of it before straddling his waist again. She rocks her hips slowly, letting his dick brush against her wet folds, teasing him like he teases her with his words throughout the day. He groans, aware that he deserves this torture, and runs his hands along her thighs.

"Damn it, Eff," he hisses, jaw clenching when she simply giggles and pushes up onto her knees, removing all contact with his cock.

"Manners, Haymitch," she scolds him with a smile before placing her hands on both sides of his head and leaning down to whisper. "I love seeing you frustrated like this... It's sexy."

He growls, grasps her taut ass with his hands and squeezes hard, making her yelp. "Fuck manners, I want you."

Effie simply giggles again, places a kiss to his chin and lowers herself back down to hover over his length, her hands running over his chest. He's in much better shape than he used to be. After the intense training for the Quarter Quell and then the uprising he's continued to exercise frequently - and have sex with Effie as much as possible. He's about to lose it when she finally takes his cock in her hand and guides herself down onto him.

Effie laughs when she sees the scowl wiped off his face, and lets a moan escape her lips as her walls completely envelop his length. She rocks her hips slowly, keeping his entire dick inside her, watching as his expression turns to one of pleasure. She's gotten good at reading his emotions over the years - a scowl here, a twitch of an eye there, she knows when he's about to scream bloody murder and when he's going to say something sweet.

Lately the sweet things he's been saying have come more and more frequently, and she hopes this means he's finally allowing himself to be happy. It seems like he is, but every now and then he'll have a bad day when he'll just want to stay in bed and block out the world - herself included.

Effie doesn't want to think about those days now though. Not when she's bouncing harder and faster and _right there_ on his cock. His hands are helping lift her up and down while he thrusts his hips up to meet hers. Her honey blonde hair flying in all directions, headband discarded, pert breasts bouncing, mouth parted as she moans, Haymitch thinks she looks like a goddess.

"Shit," Haymitch hisses in pleasure, licking his lips. He shifts his left hand to thumb her clit as she rides him, gritting his teeth to hold back his orgasm. He knows she's close - shuddering soft moans, gasps of his name, the way her toes are already starting to curl. A few more jolts of his hips and she falls down hard on his dick, moaning his name loudly and giving in to her pleasure. He grins, watching her writhe against his chest as her orgasm envelops her body, and enjoys the feeling of her walls tightening around his throbbing cock. He can barely hold back, thrusts a couple of times before spilling his seed into her with a hiss.

A few minutes later and Effie is still lying on top of him, catching her breath and lazily running her hand over his sweat-slicked chest. His hands are on her ass, slowly massaging her cheeks, his cock still buried to the hilt within her hot pussy. Neither can be bothered to move, nor do they want to.

"I love you, Effie," he eventually says, smiling.

"Love you too, 'Mitch," comes the mumbled reply. He thinks she may be falling asleep, and is more than content to let her doze off naked and on top of him.

~.~

"Zip me up, would you?" asks Effie as she comes downstairs to find Haymitch in the kitchen. "Don't eat now! You'll get food on your suit!"

He turns to face her with a scowl, dropping the cheese and tomato sandwich he'd made onto the counter. He was hoping he'd be able to eat it before she found him - whenever there's a social event her neurotic tendencies cannot be controlled. However the look on his face is suddenly replaced with lust as he sees the dress she's wearing. It's a strapless lilac dress that comes in at her waist and then flares out slightly, stopping above her knee. There's a sort of floral pattern to the silky material around her breasts and hem that catches the light and shimmers. He thinks it might be an alteration of one of her old Capitol dresses; feels like he remembers it.

Effie turns around, clutching the two sides of the dress to her back, waiting for him to do it up. He walks over and runs his hand along her spine before gently pulling the zip up and closing the dress - which feels like heaven. He runs his hand over her butt with a smirk, lightly presses a kiss to the back of her head.

"You look gorgeous, Eff," he tells her with a smile.

She spins to face him, short without her heels, and smiles widely up at him. She's got a bit of soft pink eye shadow on, but apart from that her makeup is all natural shades, and Haymitch loves it. Her hair falls in soft waves down her back and he appreciates the hours it's taken her to get ready.

"Thank you," she finally says, having been admiring his clean-shaven face and handsome appearance in a neat black suit. She stands on tiptoes to kiss him softly, and tells him whilst adjusting his collar, "You look very handsome."

"Thanks," says Haymitch with a smile.

He's content to just stand here and hold her close, admiring her beauty, but she says that they need to go or they'll be late to their own party, despite it not officially starting for another 20 minutes. He shakes his head with a smirk and watches her slide her feet into a pair of pink sling-back peep toes. He thinks that she is probably the only ex-Capitol citizen who could get away with wearing that here. She's donated most of her old wardrobe to charity and has been spending her days helping rebuild the district. There are still people who begrudge her for her old lifestyle, but none seem to hate her. Not after she became a rebel and still sports one scar along her right shoulder from a particularly deep lashing. Effie refuses to have it removed, calls it her battle scar, and likes how it reminds her of who she is now - she doesn't want to be the pristine Capitol escort she once was.

~.~

In a room that opens on the edge of the stage in the new Function Hall - a building Effie designed and commissioned so that the district could have a place to have proper celebrations - Haymitch leans against the door, watching his fiancée fiddle with her outfit. He can hear the sounds of their many guests through the door, the sounds of a district that is slowly healing. Effie's still fixing her dress and he's this close to yelling at her that it looks fucking fine.

Evidently they're not perfect. They're together but it doesn't mean that her perfectionism doesn't grate on his nerves, nor his abrasiveness on hers. There'll be many days when their behaviour is too much for the other to handle, and they'll have to spend a few hours apart. He'll feed his geese, go for a walk in the woods, go see if someone needs help with anything. She'll go visit Katniss and Peeta, entertain their baby, help someone in the district with something, reorganise their house. However with them spending most of their days apart, helping out around the district, their time together in the mornings and at night is normally happily spent.

And Effie is surprisingly thoughtful - to the point where Haymitch sometimes wonders what he's done to deserve her. He'll be about to growl, yell about how she's replaced all his clothes, moved his furniture, bought an ugly painting, and she'll say something like "I've bought that book you wanted!", kiss him on the corner of his lips where she knows she'll garner a smile, or envelop his cock in her mouth like she's doing right now and he'll forget everything.

"God, Effie!" he exclaims, wondering what he did right today to receive this treatment. Her sky-blue nails are dragging along his upper thighs, teasing his skin as her tongue glides along the underside of his dick. A minute ago she was fixing her hair and he was contemplating joining their party without her, and then she was striding over to him, dropping to her knees and unzipping his pants with a wicked smirk.

"Shhh," she says, grinning up at him as she swirls her tongue around the glistening head. He groans, fighting the urge to thrust his hips forward as pleasure shoots through his pelvis. Her warm mouth envelops the tip of his cock and he has to bite down on his hand to quiet himself. Her nails glide over his balls while she takes him further into her mouth with long, hard sucks.

He hisses in pleasure when she releases his length from her mouth and takes one of his balls inside it instead, her hands pumping along his length. He can barely think as she brings him closer and closer to cumming with her arsenal of strokes, licks, sucks and whimper-inducing flicks of her tongue. He doesn't dare run his fingers through her hair, like he normally would, for fear of messing it up. Instead he digs his nails into the door he's leaning against, listens to the muffled laughter of someone on the other side and smirks at the danger of being caught. He doesn't know what's got into Effie, normally she'd never do anything sexual in a place like this, but he's not complaining.

She's got his balls cupped in one hand, the other one squeezing and massaging his ass while she licks his cock like a lollipop. He should have guessed it - that hiding all those years under that layer of colour was a women with the devil's tongue. He thinks this might be the death of him, keeps his eyes fixed on her like this is the last image he'll ever see. She smirks and licks one of her fingers before sliding it up his ass whilst enveloping his cock with her mouth again.

He barely manages to choke out a warning before he's cumming down her throat in large, fast spurts. His vision goes blurry and he's barely aware of the loud groan that escapes his lips. He's consumed by pleasure and Effie grins, his dick still down her throat. She swirls her finger over his prostate, giggling when he whimpers in pleasure - she loves having this effect on him. A minute later when he's calmed down, she removes her finger from his ass and slides his dick from her mouth with a long suck. He's staring down at her like she's not real, and this makes her laugh again. She tucks his cock back into his boxers and zips up his pants before standing up and turning towards the table. She opens her clutch bag and pulls out a bottle of hand sanitizer and a tissue, cleans her hands and then reapplies her lipgloss. Meanwhile Haymitch is still leaning against the door in shock, a lazy grin on his face, realising she planned this.

"Oh, Haymitch, you didn't really think I was worried about being late? Or about my dress being perfect?" Effie laughs, walking back over to him.

"Might have..." He mumbles.

"You're fun to tease," she smirks before kissing him softly.

"As are you," he speaks against her lips. "Shall we join our guests?"

"Do I look... Well..." A blush creeps up her cheeks and he chuckles, almost doubting what just happened.

"You look perfect," he says, opening the door to the ballroom. There are a few hundred people out there and it never fails to shock Haymitch at just how sociable his fiancée is.

"I love you," Effie murmurs, her eyes looking more alive than he's seen in years.

"I love you too," he replies, certain that his own eyes reflect her happiness, and steals a quick squeeze of her ass.

She glares at him and he chuckles, his arm snaking around her slender waist, pulling her closer to him - closer to his heart - as they step out onto the stage to welcome those here to celebrate their engagement.


End file.
